


A Moment of Diplomacy

by orphan_account



Series: On discovery [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Have not seen source content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23117170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Following the nation reveal, the nation of Norway embarks on a series of diplomatic visits. The first is Denmark. They spend a week doing diplomacy. It surely goes as sensibly as the media makes it out to be.
Relationships: Denmark/Norway (Hetalia)
Series: On discovery [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/913554
Kudos: 19





	A Moment of Diplomacy

'What are you trying to do?' Norway interrupts his reading aloud to enquire. 

Denmark pauses in his fiddling with Norway's hair. He'd been combing it with his fingers as Norway had read the document. Keeping his fingers occupied always helped him to concentrate.

'Seeing if you have enough to braid it'. Norway did not have enough hair to braid. He learned this fairly regularly when trying to keep his overlong fringe from his eyes. It was long enough to annoy him but too short to braid properly.

'Mmm'. He'll let Denmark continue to play. There would be no harm in him finding out himself. He makes a start on a new section of the document, exploring different avenues of discussion surrounding a new, potential constitutional article.

Denmark's fingers provide a familiar warmth and comfort running through his hair. Norway does most of his best political thinking sat like this, although he certainly would not enjoy the world knowing that.

The world saw their work as purely serious business, all offices and important meetings. Whenever his role in government was discussed in the media, they made him out to be one of the most boring diplomats, all speeches and notes. There was no space in his media persona for Denmark's fingers in his hair and his back against Denmark's chest.

It was safer like that. If they saw him as entirely boring they wouldn't ask questions. If he had no visible attachments, he and his family were safer.

This is the game they've been playing for years. They stand apart at meetings and conferences, receiving each other with the quiet deference of fellow nations. Then, in private, they tumble together, finding their comfort in each other.

Sometimes Norway wonders how many other such groupings of nations there are, keeping their fondness under wraps for their own safety. 

Denmark nudges him with a knee, he's stopped reading. He flicks through the remaining leaves of paper, they're nearly done. This approach to work may be preferable to sitting in his office with if but that doesn't necessarily make it any more interesting.

Officially, Norway is spending time in Copenhagen 'doing diplomacy'. It's the first stop on a series of little visits. 

His media has not envisaged (and it sure has been envisaging) that his approach to diplomacy with Denmark is to spend an afternoon sat enjoying the July sunshine in Denmark's small courtyard garden. 

Certain elements of the internet (thoughtfully provided to him by an alarming alliance of his little brother and best friend) had taken a far less officious and perhaps more accurate view of his diplomacy. None of the posts that he's been sent really capture the warmth of this moment. They're too busy being lewd (thank you Suomi for those) or just downright ridiculous (inaccurate, but definitely Is' sense of humour).

Denmark's voice cuts through his distraction. Whoops, he still hasn't started reading again. 

'Hey, Nor. Want to ditch this and test some of Is' suggestions of diplomacy? I think I have some of that big, children's Lego somewhere.'

'Duplo?'

'Yeah. Wanna do some duplomacy with me?'

Denmark sounds far too proud of himself with the pun. It's not even his pun. Is had sent it to them this morning and they'd already enjoyed it at breakfast.

Norway turns himself around to look Denmark in the face and intones, 'how terrible that this document will grant every nation rights - except Denmark.'

He can't keep a straight face when making jokes at Denmark. A hint of a laugh escapes through the mask of sorrow he is trying to wear.

Denmark laughs openly before adopting a similarly sorrowful tone, 'to lose rights over pun crimes - what dishonour, what disgrace - no PUNishment is great enough.'

Oh dear. Once Denmark has started on the puns he will not stop. Norway takes the only reasonable response and falls to the ground, feigning his own death.

As soon as he does it, he realises his own foolishness. Whilst it may be an efficient way to stop the puns, he failed to account for his new vulnerability to tickling. Today is a day with no public appearances so there's not even any boning to protect his sides.

He tightens his grip on the sheath of paper in his hand. He'll need it to fend off the inevitable. Denmark's amusement radiates off him as he leans closer to Norway's prone form. There's a moment of pause as he rests his fingers at Norway's sides. Then his fingers begin to move and it's unbearable. 

Norway reflexively pulls away, bringing the paperwork up to swat Denmark with in retaliation. He twists away to get another swat in but something rubs in his ribs as he moves. And gods does it hurt. Having been stabbed before, he can accurately describe the pain as a stabbing one.

He stills instantly, swat abandoned. He breathes out the word 'peber', even as his ribs hold his lungs captive. Denmark stops instantly, hands withdrawing a short distance but remaining close enough to help with whatever has happened.

'What happened? Is it your ribs again?'

Norway nods in response, before adjusting himself to take all possible weight off of his ribs. This is a frequent issue. His ribs hate him. They have hated him for the last five hundred years, at least. 

'I'm guessing you'll want to stay down there, then?' Denmark's voice is slightly quieter, all amusement has fallen out of it.

'Yeah. Give me a moment, and then let's go inside. I don't know about the duplomacy, but I wouldn't mind a drink.'

Denmark laughs at the pun, easily amused, but settles down to wait. He offers Norway a hand to hold and he takes it. The other hand he uses to retrieve the now slightly crumpled paperwork from Norway's grasp, stowing it safely in the binder it came in.

Norway watches him, letting the frustration at his ribs drift away in favour of watching Denmark. After a short while the pain abates a little and he takes the opportunity to sit upright.

'I would offer to carry you in, but-'

'I will be fine Dan, don't worry. Let's go.'

Both of their bodies are misbehaving today. Denmark had woken up in pain, his body failing once again to remember that Norway had healed the wound in question. He's in no state to carry Norway, even if Norway needed it (not that that would stop him trying).

The only help that Norway is comfortable to accept from him is the offer of a hand to help him up. They find their way past Denmark's long-suffering potted herbs into the cozy warmth of his kitchen. 

Denmark's kitchen is so obviously a space he loves. With every update his government has given it over years it still manages to carry the same feeling of warmth as the first time Norway entered it.

Everything in here is clean and bright. Even the old silver spoons that hang on the wall are brightly polished. Denmark adds the paperwork folder to the piles of paperwork on his table that have gotten slightly more orderly since Norway's arrival.

The table is in its smallest form, its extra leaves folded away. It is still too large for two, but is not nearly as vacuously empty as it would be fully extended. The remaining chairs, Norway assumes, are in the basement with their covers stowed away. The easy to care for houseplants that Norway had slowly been fitting into the kitchen space over the years continue to struggle on along the countertops. 

Denmark sits Norway down and moves to the stove to start making coffee. Whilst Denmark moves, Norway takes advantage of the lack of attention directed at the table to reorganise Denmark's paper piles some more. The pile of outdated paperwork has grown steadily across the course of Norway's visit. Some of it went out of date over four years ago.

Before Norway leaves, he'll take the pile upstairs to add it into Denmark's very messy storage system. There's nobody online hypothesising that diplomacy is an arrangement between them that Norway will sort paperwork if Denmark darns socks. They have found their functionality over the years and it works well for them.

Norway stops fiddling with the paper as Denmark joins him at the table, two cups in hand. He's also procured some pastries from somewhere that he brings over. 

It's comfortable. They can finish reading and editing the document later. They have a whole week worth of diplomacy, after all.


End file.
